


The Baton

by hollyblue2



Series: one thousand and ninety-four days ‘verse [7]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Fingering, Inmate!Cas, M/M, Object Insertion, Pain Kink, Prison AU, Prostate Orgasm, Rough Sex, Top!Cas, bottom!Dean, dub con, inmate!dean
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-21
Updated: 2019-11-21
Packaged: 2021-02-26 00:00:51
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,672
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21514195
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hollyblue2/pseuds/hollyblue2
Summary: Set beforeFacadeDean's exhausted but Castiel comes back with a surprise which is bound to get them tossed in solitary if they're caught. It's a promise of a good time, and Dean can only hope he gets an orgasm out of it too.
Relationships: Castiel/Dean Winchester
Series: one thousand and ninety-four days ‘verse [7]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/952299
Comments: 8
Kudos: 119





	The Baton

**Author's Note:**

> So, I never thought I'd go back to this series, but here we are. I ground to a halt on my NaNoWriMo fic but managed to write all of this in one day so at least it was words. (My goal is still to have my fic finished by the end of the year so I can start posting in January, so if anyone is interested, there's an 80k+ fic heading your way)
> 
> I hope you like this porny goodness... the dub-con tag is there for reasons, and despite all actions between Dean and Cas being consensual, I deemed the fact that they're locked in the same cell as a bit dubious so just roll with it, it's there more as a precaution than anything. 
> 
> Beta'd by fpwoper :)

Exhaustion washes over Dean. It’s been a damn long day, feeling longer than most after Castiel kept him up most of the night with his dick in Dean’s ass. He’s been pleasantly sore all day too, feeling an ache between his thighs that bounced to his lower back where he’d been pulled into an awkward position and made to stay there. 

After waking up this morning, however, he hasn’t had a glimpse if Castiel all day. That alone is suspicious and it never ends well for either of them when that happens. If Castiel has ended up in solitary then at least Dean’s ass remembers Castiel already and he doesn’t have to go days without a good fucking. 

Dean dozes off on his front, and the book in his hands that he’d borrowed from Castiel (and subsequently lost the other man’s page in the book) slaps onto the hard concrete floor. He’s half aware that being in this position is probably enticement enough for Castiel to start something but Dean’s too tired to even bother turning over. He'll just grumble later if Castiel comes back. 

He doesn’t know how long it is when he hears the scrape of the cell door opening and chattering voices. Castiel is back, and he’s talking to that newbie guard. Poor guy is barely six foot and skinny as a rake, he ain’t going to last long here. 

When the footsteps move away, he hears Castiel come closer. He’s on his bed, even though in recent months, Dean’s spent more time in it than Castiel, so it should startle him when it dips and Castiel’s weight folds over the top of him. He’s not light by a long stretch, Castiel’s muscles that he’s worked on over the years really adds on when his face is being smushed into the pillow.

“Cas, fuck off,” Dean says into the pillow, the words muffled and probably an excuse for Castiel to have ‘not heard' him. Bastard. 

“I’ve got a surprise for you,” Castiel whispers into his ear and it’s hot and sticky like he’s been chewing something. Dean’s skin erupts in goosebumps and he shivers. “Oh, you like the sound of that, don’t you.” 

Dean can’t help it, so he nods into the soft material and Castiel takes that as his consent. Surprises in this place are hard to come by, so whatever Castiel has in store for him better be worth being woken up.

He feels Castiel sit up and shuffle down his legs. The muscles in his back ache from the day’s hard work and then ache more as Castiel’s knees force themselves between Dean’s legs, spreading him obscenely. If only Castiel had asked, he’d had got up on all fours and presented to him but as usual, Castiel takes the hard route.

A tongue hits his hole with vigour and Dean’s muscles tighten as his arousal begins to form. It seems his cock isn’t nearly as tired as he is. Castiel’s tongue laves and dips in as far as possible and Dean finds himself relaxing into the usual motions. His tongue is joined first by a wet tongue, and then by oil, more than usual and enough to that it spills down his spread thighs and no doubts leaves oily stains on the sheets. For fuck’s sake. 

Soon, Castiel is four fingers deep, and Dean’s asshole aching like fuck from overuse and stimulation. His cock is pressing hard against the sheets begging for a release he’s not sure he’s going to get, and then Castiel takes his hands off Dean’s body. 

There’s a thud as something hits his upper back. Ouch. 

He flinches. He knows that feeling, and he waits for it to hit him again, burying his face in the pillow so his whimpers can’t be heard. The object knocks against his spine again, much lighter this time and it drags down each bump in his spine like torture. He clenches his hole in fear, surely Castiel isn’t going to beat him—

Oh. 

Oh fuck. 

The baton presses against his rim with a blunt pressure, the ones they use in this hell hole seem more like fucking baseball bats than standardised batons. Ugh. There’s not enough lube in this place for this. 

Dean groans louder than expected as Castiel presses and presses. Dean breathes quickly, trying to relax and bear down so it might go in but there’s no luck. He lifts his head off the pillow and turns to face Castiel. The man has a dark look in his eye that Dean’s not sure he likes. Sure, Dean will take pain where he can get it, but a man has his limits, and he doesn’t want to be torn apart; fuck knows how he would explain that one to the nurses. 

“Fuckin' open me up, you dick,” Dean hisses at him and Castiel pauses, looking at him slightly softer. Dean rolls his eyes.

“Stop complaining, I’m trying to give you something nice.”

“Oh sure, shoving a fucking baton up my ass is real nice,” Dean protests. 

“Fine,” Castiel relents and the baton lays innocently across Dean’s back, still looming and threatening, but disarmed so to speak. The sight of it, with the slicked up end, gets his cock interested against his will, however, and he sighs. He so wants it. He can imagine the pressure of it filling him and pressing against his prostate, he can imagine Castiel’s hand covering his mouth to keep him quiet while he squirms and it gets pumped in and out of him.

“Fuck me with it,” Dean murmurs, relaxing his legs and hips, and pushing his ass up in the air a little, encouraging Castiel to move. 

The baton balances across his back carefully, rolling just as little as he moves but creating a sensation that sends a shiver right down his spine. It doesn’t take Castiel long to start moving again, this time oiling up several fingers and plunging them back into Dean’s ass. This time Dean’s ready, he takes the fingers and pushes back onto them and feels the stretch deep inside him as a thumb joins in too. He resists a long guttural moan because he’s not about to make enough noise for a guard to come to them and see them messing around with one of their batons. 

Castiel withdraws all fingers and thumbs and Dean is left feeling bereft and empty but only for a few moments as the baton is removed from Dean’s back and once again pressed against his waiting hole. 

Dean relaxes, curving his back to push up his ass, now practically begging for it. The pressure Castiel puts on the baton is harsh and Dean can feel his hole resisting and resisting. Castiel just presses in harder, one hand migrating to Dean’s cock and that seems to be the ticket to let the baton in.

It slides in uncomfortably and Dean lets out an unexpected huff and a groan. As Castiel works the baton in further, a hand comes over his mouth. It’s sweaty and oily and smells like an asshole, but it keeps Dean quiet as Castiel fills him. There’s no room for movement, or so Dean assumes, as it feels like he’s about to be split in two. He can only hope none of this goes wrong as he  _ really _ doesn’t want to explain this to the nurses. There’s no movement, just heavy breathing and a deep-seated ache that runs all the way up his spine and out to his own cock. 

“I want you to come for me, just like this.” The end of the baton presses onto his prostate and his entire body locks up with arousal again. Another movement and Castiel pulls the baton out before pushing it back in and hitting that sweet spot. Fuck, he’s going to die. What a sweet death it would be though.

The hand over his mouth clamps on tightly as more noises threaten to burst out and all he’s left with is muffled yelling and cursing and the baton slipping in and out of his ass. It pinches past his rim over and over before diving in and nailing his prostate. It’s a surprise he hasn’t come yet and the longer he takes the more Castiel will be torturing him with it. 

One particularly rough thrust has Dean clenching around the baton and he comes over the sheets below him. He barely has time to think about the fact he’ll be sleeping in a wet patch before Castiel is pulling the baton out. This time the pull against his rim is sharp with oversensitivity and the baton is replaced with Castiel’s cock. In comparison, it feels small but his ass slowly begins to tighten around it and then Castiel takes his own time pumping in and out until his own release spills inside Dean. 

Fucker. 

His ass is gonna have a hard time not letting that leak out and he’ll have to suffer until the morning when he can grab a shower. No doubt he’ll be walking funny and the other inmates will definitely notice. 

Castiel presses his body over Dean’s and even the smallest pressure has his body crashing into the bed with exhaustion. It’s two days in solitary if they’re caught in the same bed, but Dean doesn’t give a fuck. His ass hurts, his chest hurts, and there’s a gross wet patch beneath him but he closes his eyes to it all. 

“Whoever laughs tomorrow, put that baton in their cell, don’t even bother cleaning it.”

“As you wish,” Castiel says in his ear, pressing unwanted kisses to the back of his neck. He’s too exhausted to push him away or tell him off so he just lets Castiel have it for this night. 

Some time in the night, Castiel makes his way to the top bunk, taking the baton with him to hide it, leaving Dean to wrap himself in the blankets and position himself away from the oil and come stains and sleep.

**Author's Note:**

> I hope you enjoyed this :)
> 
> Tentatively, I'm going to say that I'm open for suggestions for future fics in this series, so feel free to share any thoughts with me in the comments (or via tumblr), about this fic and anything you'd like to see. I cannot guarantee I will write it, but I'll definitely take ideas on board (I still have a half-empty kink bingo card, so maybe some will fit).
> 
> [My Tumblr](https://envydean.tumblr.com) | [My Writing Tumblr](https://envydeanwrites.tumblr.com)


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